


Number One, Avalon Street

by AngelQueen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Femslash, Fluff, Het, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year 2012 brings many changes and challenges to the inhabitants of Number One, Avalon Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number One, Avalon Street

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viennajones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viennajones/gifts).



> This story was written for [viennajones](http://viennajones.livejournal.com/) on LiveJournal, inspired by the lovely art she created for the [Merlin Reverse Big Bang](http://merlinreversebb.livejournal.com/). You can see her gorgeous creation [here](http://pastelwoods.livejournal.com/1370.html).
> 
> I'd also like to thank [lone-pyramid](http://lone-pyramid.livejournal.com/) and [coralinas](http://coralinas.livejournal.com/) for their assistance in betaing this story. Both were a huge, huge help and I'm forever grateful for it. :)

**January 1, 2012, 12:00 A.M.**

“ _Happy New Year_!” The shouts of everyone present in the basement of Avalon Apartments reverberated through the room. People raised their plastic cups in the air in salute, and some people even clinked them together, laughing.

Arthur Pendragon took a long drink of his beer and glanced around. He hadn’t intended to come to the party this evening, thinking to spend the evening catching up on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated over the Christmas holidays, but Morgana had put paid to that.

“You’ve barely interacted with the other people who live here,” his sister had chided after she’d let herself into his penthouse apartment earlier that morning. “Have you even _talked_ to anyone who lives in this building besides me, Lance, and Owain?”

Arthur had moved into Number One just the previous October, and in truth, he _hadn’t_ interacted with the other inhabitants of the building beyond his half-sister and her family. Oh, there was the superintendent, a reclusive older man named Geoffrey, that Arthur had spoken to extensively when he was signing the lease and moving in, but the other people who lived here? Not so much. Still, he hardly wanted to admit that Morgana was right. It would only make her even more insufferable than she already was. So he took another drink of his beverage to avoid doing so.

His avoidance, however, was enough of a response for her. Morgana smirked and then turned, her grey-green eyes sweeping the crowd around them. “There’s Gwen,” she murmured, referring to her college roommate and Arthur’s former girlfriend. She’d been the last woman Arthur had dated before finally coming out to his family and friends. “And Elena’s here too, only I think she’s with Gwaine right now. Oh, and there’s Pellinore and Sasha Gordon —”

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Morgana, you don’t have to try to introduce me to everyone in the room. I’m perfectly capable of doing so myself.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then I suggest you do so, before everyone in the building starts thinking you’re a snob of the first order who thinks himself too good to even speak to them.”

He snorted. “You’re making me sound like Mr. Darcy. Are your students reading _Pride & Prejudice_ again?” The book was one that Morgana read with her students every year, and often ended up applying to real life situations during those same weeks. 

Morgana grinned, completely unabashed. “That would imply that you need Elizabeth Bennet, or in your case, a male version thereof.” She cast another look around the room, and then stopped. Her eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Wait, there’s Merlin Emrys, from 4B. He’s just your type.”

Arthur followed her gaze and landed on a thin, dark-haired man in blue jeans and a blue and white checkered shirt. He was standing near the wall, a cup in hand, and speaking intently with Lance with a faint grin on his face. Before Arthur could look away, the man, Merlin, glanced up and met his gaze. An entertained expression crossed his face, as though he somehow knew what Arthur and Morgana had been saying. Even his blue eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement and he nodded briefly before returning to his conversation with Arthur’s brother-in-law. 

Arthur studied him for a few more seconds, and then shook his head. “No, he’s not my type at all, Morgana. Besides, what does he do that he’d come to this party dressed so casually?” He glanced down at his own trousers, dress shirt, and tie pointedly.

His sister rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Arthur, this isn’t meant to be a formal event. Everyone’s free to come dressed as they wish. And to answer the other part of your question, he’s a librarian. Works at Camelot Metropolitan Library’s Main Branch, downtown.”

_A librarian_ , Arthur thought, then shook his head, dismissing the other man from any further consideration. _Definitely not my type._

* * *

**January 1, 2012, 12:04 P.M.**

Gwaine Caerleon yawned as he unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. He’d been out late to several different parties and had crashed in his girlfriend’s apartment at about five A.M. He’d only now just woken up and come up the two floors to his own place, leaving Elena nibbling on some toast in her kitchen. She was looking rather peaked, making him wonder if it was just a hangover or if she might be coming down with something. 

Shutting the door behind him, Gwaine tossed his keys on the black table in the entry, which held only a globe that his roommate had had with him since college. Walking past it, he made his way into the kitchen, following the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Merlin was sitting at the kitchen table, his nose buried in a book as he absently speared a few pieces of penne pasta with his fork. “You and Elena out late?” he asked, not looking up from the page.

Gwaine nodded as he grabbed a mug out of one of the cabinets. “Yeah,” he answered. “After the party downstairs broke up, we went down to the Rising Sun. Percy, Leon, Elyan, Carl, and Harry were all there. You should have come with.”

“Nah, I was exhausted. I came up here and turned in.” Merlin still didn’t look up, but Gwaine was long past taking offense at his friend’s seeming indifference. When Merlin was engrossed in a book, it took quite a bit to get him out of it. 

Sipping on the warm coffee, Gwaine said, “I heard Morgana talking to that new guy who moved into the penthouse a few months back. Her brother or something, what’s his name?” he asked.

“Arthur. He’s her half-brother.”

“Right, well, apparently she thought you were his type, but he said you weren’t dressed prettily enough for him,” Gwaine told him, laughing. 

Now, Merlin did look up, a slightly incredulous look on his face. “Not dressed… _what_?”

He snorted. “Yeah, apparently you were dressed too casually for Mr. I-Just-Got-Home-From-the-Office-and-Just-Threw-Off-My-Jacket-and-Came-Down. Seems a bit too much of a princess, if you ask me.”

Merlin stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged. “I really don’t care.” He set his book down then and focused on finishing his dinner. “How’s Elena?” he asked. 

“She’s great,” Gwaine said, letting his friend change the subject. 

“Ever consider popping the question?” Merlin gave him a small grin. “It’s been three years and she hasn’t dumped your ass for the crap you pull. That alone makes her a keeper.”

Gwaine laughed, reaching out to ruffle his friend’s messy dark hair. “Seriously man, can you see _me_ married and doing the whole domestic thing?” He shook his head. “Nah, Elena and I are good the way we are.”

* * *

**January 5, 2012, 6:32 P.M.**

Gwen walked out of her room at a quick pace, slinging the strap of her purse over her shoulder. She was running late, something she hated, and couldn’t help but feel a little frazzled. Nonetheless, she stopped when she took in the sight of her miserable roommate crashed out on the sofa, buried under a throw and surrounded by empty tissue boxes. 

“Elena,” she spoke up softly, “I’m going.”

A head of mussed blonde hair and bleary blue eyes popped out from underneath the blanket. “’Kay,” she croaked.

Sympathy coursed through Gwen and she sat down in the chair next to the sofa. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” she asked her. “This is just a blind date. I can easily reschedule it until you’re feeling better.”

Elena shook her head, wrapping herself even tighter in the throw. “Be fine,” she said. “Hab fun.” She sniffed.

Slowly, Gwen nodded. “Do you want me to call Gwaine?” She offered her a grin. “He’s not so hopeless in the kitchen that he can’t make you some soup, or some tea, is he?”

A small, tremulous smile crossed Elena’s lips, but Gwen thought that her friend’s eyes dimmed a bit at the mention of her boyfriend. “I’mb good,” Elena assured her. “Sleep. Tanks.”

“All right, then,” Gwen conceded, standing up. “But call me if you need any help.” Elena nodded again and closed her eyes. Clearly, sleep really was all she wanted for the moment. 

As Gwen left the apartment, she pulled out the small bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse. As she rubbed some over her hands, she turned her thoughts to her coming date. She’d been going out on a rash of blind dates lately, often set up by mutual friends, and the success of the dates had been spotty at best. Sophia had been a snooty bitch who’d looked down her nose at practically everything, including Gwen herself, while Vivian had been a bit too… everything, really. Still, of those two, it was Vivian that Gwen had been happy to retain as a friend.

Now came date number three. They were meeting at the Rising Sun, and were then supposed to take off for dinner. Gwen hoped that this date with Morgause de Blois turned out to be better than the others.

* * *

**February 14, 2012, 5:03 P.M.**

“Keep your eyes shut, Morgana.”

She laughed. “It’s kind of redundant, isn’t it?” she asked Lance. “Your hands will keep me from seeing anything anyway.”

He stroked his thumb along the side of her face, and she shivered. “Keep them shut anyway,” Lance said as he kept guiding her through the apartment. Finally, he told her to stop and dropped his hands away from her eyes, while also insisting that she continue to keep her eyes closed. 

Shaking her head, Morgana said, “This had better be good.” She listened to him move around in front of her, heard the strike of a match, and caught the faint scent of smoke. “Can I look yet?” she asked after several moments.

A pause, and then her husband said, “All right, now.”

Opening her eyes, Morgana took in what was in front of her, her jaw dropping. The dining room was dark, save for the dozens of lit candles spread all through the room. In the center of the room was the dining room table, reduced to its smallest size and set for two.

“What?” she asked, looking at Lance with wide eyes as she reflexively brushed a stray curl of hair away from her eyes. “What is this?”

He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparkling. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Morgana.”

Her lips slowly spread into her own smile, and she moved closer to him. Sliding her hands up his arms, shoulders, neck, and into his close-cropped hair, Morgana leaned in to kiss him. Lance’s arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him, deepening their embrace.

When they broke for air, she leaned her forehead against his and asked breathlessly, “Did you actually cook, or were we going to skip right to dessert?”

Lance laughed. “As fun as that might be, I’d hate for the food to get cold and go to waste.” He then led her over to the table and held her chair out for her. Grinning, Morgana sat down, and then watched him vanish into the kitchen, only to return with a small cart carrying several platters and bowls of steaming food.

She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. “Oh, that smells good.”

Smiling, he scooped some of the food out on both of their plates. The ensuing meal was wonderful, sitting in the flickering candlelight and drinking in each other’s presence. The food tasted as good as it smelled. “Where is Owain?” she asked as she twirled some of the pasta around her fork.

“Arthur has him upstairs. He volunteered to keep him for the evening.”

Morgana smirked, taking a sip of her wine. “Owain will run him ragged.” She thought of Arthur’s apartment, which had all the personality of a hermetically sealed bunker. Even the bonsai tree looked ill and drab, half-dead by the door. “Maybe he’ll even liven up the place.”

* * *

**February 14, 2012, 6:22 P.M.**

Arthur sighed wearily as Owain knocked over the neat pile of magazines in the process of bringing his toy plane in for a landing on the coffee table. The things he did for his brother-in-law. Next year, Arthur planned to be out of town on Valentine’s Day. 

It could be worse, he tried to remind himself as his nephew raced around the room, his plane discarded and replaced with his Superman doll. He could have forgotten to lock his office and Owain could be turning that room upside down. Arthur shuddered, thinking of his laptop, his case files, his law books. 

“Unc’ Arfur?”

Arthur ran his fingers through his blond hair and turned his gaze to his nephew, who was now uninterested in his Superman doll and was hunched over a pile of books he’d pulled off the shelves. The boy was staring down at one of them. “Who?” he asked, pointing.

Arthur stood up and crossed the room, kneeling down next to the little boy and looking at what held his attention. It was one of his photo albums, full of family pictures. Ruffling Owain’s fair hair, he pointed at the pictures. “That’s me and your mommy.” He and Morgana had gone to the same university, and had graduated together. Arthur stared at the picture, taking in their huge grins and matching black caps and gowns. Had it really been ten years since then?

Owain took no notice of his introspection and pointed at another picture. “Who?”

Arthur bit his lip. “That’s my mommy.” Ygraine Pendragon beamed up at them, her blue eyes sparkling and completely unaware of the cancer that would rip her from life far too soon. Arthur had only been seven when she’d died.

Owain continued to point at the other pictures, and Arthur rattled off the names of cousins as they turned the pages. When they reached the end, though, Arthur grew nervous. The last pages were where he kept —

“Who?” Owain pointed at a picture of Uther Pendragon.

Arthur bit his lip. Morgana hadn’t spoken to their father in a decade, when he and Vivienne Cornwall had admitted the affair they’d had over twenty years before, an affair that had resulted in Morgana’s conception. Morgana had been very close to Gorlois Cornwall, had adored him as her father all her life, and hadn’t taken it well to learn that her mother had cheated on him, and with Gorlois’ closest friend at that. She had cut both of them out of her life after that, and as a result, neither Vivienne nor Uther had been invited to Morgana’s wedding, nor had they met their grandson. 

Looking up, Arthur frantically swept the room for something to distract Owain with. Now was probably not the time to open that can of worms with his nephew. “Hey, big guy, you want to watch a movie?” he asked him, thinking of the television and DVD player in his room. 

Owain perked up. “Duckies?”

Relieved, Arthur grinned. “Yes, duckies.” He got to his feet, took his eager nephew’s hand, and led him away from the album. The movie had come in the bag Lancelot had provided, and Owain was riveted to it the entire time, thankfully. However, while Owain was enthralled, Arthur wasn’t. His mind was on the picture of his father, and how his face wasn’t recognizable to his own grandson.

He needed to talk to Morgana or, if she proved unapproachable, Lance.

* * *

 **February 15, 2012, 8:00 A.M.**

Merlin juggled his keys, his coffee, the previous day’s mail, and his laptop case in the lobby, trying to free one of his hands to open the door. He had to be at work in a half-hour, and the morning traffic was always abysmal. Inwardly, he cursed his shoddy alarm clock. He needed a new one.

The elevator bell dinged behind him and Merlin looked over. The doors opened to reveal a blond man in a formal suit and carrying a briefcase. It took him a moment, but Merlin recognized him as Arthur Pendragon, Lancelot’s brother-in-law. 

As Arthur approached the door, he raised an eyebrow. “Problem with the door?”

Merlin shook his head. “Too many things in my hands.”

“Ah.” Shaking his head, Arthur slipped past him and threw the door open. Much to Merlin’s relief, the other man held it open for him. As he walked past him, he heard Arthur mutter, “Might consider investing in a purse or something.”

Merlin’s eyes bulged and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from firing off a scathing response. Instead, he forced himself to simply thank his neighbor and hurried down the sidewalk and around the corner, where the resident parking lot was located. 

_Prat,_ Merlin thought irritably as he got into his car. Thankfully, the morning sun was warm and bright, which had melted a lot of the frost on his windshield. Not having to scrape his windshield made up for Arthur’s rudeness a little. 

Much to his relief, he still made it to work on time. As he hurried into the back, he signed into his shift and then left for Story Cove. Being in charge of the morning’s story time for toddlers was the whole reason Merlin came in early. It gave him time to prepare before the crowds started pouring into the building.

And in regards to this day, it gave Merlin a chance to forget about handsome prats and their uncalled-for purse comments.

* * *

**March 21, 2012, 9:13 A.M.**

The supermarket was fairly deserted – just the way Elena liked it when she did her shopping. She pushed the cart into the produce area, Gwen walking alongside, and made for the produce stands. Grabbing a plastic bag, Elena started sifting through the apples, while Gwen walked over to the refrigerated displays, pulling mushrooms packs, celery, and lettuce from the shelves. 

Elena kept her focus on the fruit as Gwen returned. She could feel her friend’s gaze on her, and knew she was concerned. Elena hated to worry her, especially when things seemed to be going so well for her friend. Apparently, Morgause de Blois had caught Gwen’s attention and hadn’t turned out to be like her previous dates. Elena had yet to meet the other woman, but given the little smiles that kept crossing Gwen’s lips when she thought no one was looking, Elena was pretty sure that Gwen was optimistic, to say the least. 

Glancing at her friend, she saw a look of determination cross Gwen’s pretty features. Panic swept through her and before Gwen could open her mouth to speak, Elena blurted, “How are things with Morgause?”

Gwen blinked, and then shot Elena a look that said she knew what she was doing. They had just talked about how the relationship between the two women was progressing the night before, when they’d been with their friends at the Rising Sun. Elyan, Gwen’s brother, was rather keen on meeting this new woman in his sister’s life, and had even teased Gwen that she was afraid of her friends scaring Morgause off.

Gwen had just laughed and shaken her head. “I think it’ll take a lot more than you lot to frighten Morgause. Not much fazes her.”

“Elena,” Gwen’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

Elena bit her lip. She’d kept this whole thing to herself for so long, not wanting to burden anyone. It was weighing her down. She sighed as she put the last of the fruit into the cart. They started walking, moving toward the frozen section in the back. “I’m not sure if…” she trailed off awkwardly, uncertain of how to explain.

Gwen stayed quiet, apparently content to wait as she got her thoughts in order.

Taking a deep breath, Elena started again. “I’m not sure if my and Gwaine’s relationship is ever going to go anywhere.” There, she’d said it. 

“I see,” was all Gwen said at first. They walked in silence for several moments, finally arriving at the meat displays. They started to look through the packs of chicken. “Do you _want_ it to go anywhere?” Gwen finally asked her. 

Elena nodded miserably. “I love him, Gwen,” she stated as firmly as she could. “I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him, but every time I try to bring it up, he just laughs it off. He thinks I’m joking.” She sighed. “He still talks about sports and hanging out at bars with his friends as being the highlights of his life. It’s like he still has that college mentality.” Finally deciding on one package of chicken in particular, she lifted it out of the display and laid it in the cart. “I don’t know if he’s ever thought about going further, and as much as I love him, I don’t want to stay the way we are, dating and screwing around like we’re still two college students.”

Gwen didn’t respond immediately. Elena stared at her. “Am I being selfish?” she asked, tugging fretfully on a strand of blonde hair that had fallen lose from her ponytail. “I mean, things _are_ good between us —”

“No, no you’re not,” the other woman hastily assured her. “I just… you should really talk to Gwaine about this. Only the two of you can decide where you go from here.”

Elena nodded. “I know,” she agreed. “It’s just getting Gwaine to be serious is about as hard as getting Percy to wear long sleeves.”

Gwen snorted.

* * *

**March 23, 2012, 1:15 P.M.**

Lance sat down at the table in the teacher’s lounge, his lunch laid out in front of him. Morgana was already seated and digging in to the leftover lasagna they’d brought from home. 

“Pass me the parmesan cheese, would you?” he asked his wife, who had the shaker bottle next to her. She did so obligingly, allowing him to coat the pasta.

“This is such a relief, having a break,” Morgana told him after she swallowed a bite of her food. “I started my A.P. classes on _A Tale of Two Cities_ today and they’re already complaining about it.”

Lance chuckled as he scooped up some of the lasagna on his fork. “Not as big a hit as _Pride & Prejudice_, I take it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not at all. The girls always love that one, and I think even a lot of the boys do too, though they’d never admit it.”

They ate in companionable silence for the next several minutes, both enjoying their lunch break. Still, as they did so, Lance’s thoughts turned to a more serious subject. Arthur had told him weeks ago of what had happened with Owain on Valentine’s Day, and how he had asked who Uther was.

Lance had little reason to think fondly of his estranged father-in-law. Though he’d never met the man and his estrangement with Morgana had occurred before Lance had even met her, the man still had managed to make his disapproval of their then-approaching nuptials known, even if it was through Arthur. According to Uther, a high school teacher wasn’t good enough for his daughter, even if she didn’t bear the Pendragon name. Morgana had been furious and ripped up the invitation she had tentatively written for him. Her fury had eventually given way to sadness, however, though she had resolutely denied it.

Still, that had been years ago. Now, Lance was a father himself. He only had to look at Owain to know that if he and his son ever had a rift like the one between Morgana and Uther, something inside of him would break. Also, as if that wasn’t enough, Owain had never even met his own grandmother either. Vivienne Cornwall too had been cut from her only child’s life. Likely the only information she got was third-hand at best, passed from Arthur to Uther and then to her. 

It sickened him to think of himself in their place, and it saddened him to think of Owain missing out on having grandparents. Lance’s parents had passed away years ago in a car accident, so Uther and Vivienne were all Owain would ever have. It wasn’t fair to deny him that because of what had happened before he was even born.

Now he just had to convince Morgana of that. Which wouldn’t be easy, given how stubborn she was, how determined she could be to carry a grudge when it suited her. 

Taking a deep breath, Lance decided it was probably best to be as direct as possible. “Morgana,” he started, “have you heard from your mother, or Uther?”

He watched his wife freeze in the midst of bringing the last bite of food to her mouth. She practically gaped at him, shocked, and then her green eyes narrowed. “No,” she replied curtly. “Why? Have you?”

He shook his head. “No, but Owain saw a picture of Uther while he was with Arthur, and asked who he was. Arthur distracted him.”

Morgana nodded and looked away. “Good.” As she started to stand up, no doubt intending to wash her plate and then return to her classroom, Lance reached out grasped her hand. 

“Morgana,” he started.

Her lips pressed together tightly and she met his gaze. Her green eyes were sharp. “Not here, Lance,” she said, glancing significantly toward the door. Morgana obviously had no desire to air the family secrets in a room where any of their co-workers could walk in at any time. 

Sighing, he nodded and released her. He would wait, and they would discuss the matter in the privacy of their home.

Of course, that proved much more complicated than Lance had initially thought. After the school day ended, he and Morgana had to stop to pick up Owain from daycare on their way home. Their son was almost always excitable after spending the day with his friends, which meant that he was full of energy when they arrived. As a result, there was no opportunity to continue their earlier discussion until later that evening, after Owain had been put to bed.

Morgana was sitting at the kitchen table grading papers when he came in after Owain had finally fallen asleep. Lance walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out two sodas. Handing one to his wife, he sat down across from her. “We should talk,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow, but thankfully did not act as though she had no idea what he was referring to. Her fingers gripped her drink tightly, the only real sign of her unease. 

“Owain deserves to know his grandparents, Morgana,” he said quietly. 

Her lips tightened and a dark glint entered her eyes. Combined with the fact that her hair was loose and wild around her face, she made for an intimidating sight. “You think our son should know two adulterers who betrayed his grandfather in one of the most intimate ways?” she demanded. “Because Gorlois Cornwall _was_ his grandfather, no matter if they shared blood or not.”

Lance nodded. “Yes, he is. Gorlois raised you, loved you as his daughter. That alone makes him your father and Owain’s grandfather.”

“I’m glad you agree.” There was a hint of testiness in her tone, which he did his best to ignore.

“But Uther is still his grandfather too, and Vivienne his grandmother. You’re Vivienne’s only child, Morgana. Haven’t you punished her enough?” He didn’t add that if Vivienne and Uther _hadn’t_ done what they did all those years ago, Morgana wouldn’t be who she was today, nor would Owain, if he even existed.

Morgana scowled at the mention of her mother. Lance honestly wasn’t sure who she despised more, Uther or Vivienne. 

“Fine,” she eventually bit out. “If you’re so keen on this, then _you_ handle it. Invite them to visit and have supper. But don’t expect me to like it.” She then returned her attention to the papers in front of her and resumed her grading.

Lance was a little surprised. He had expected more resistance on his wife’s part, but he supposed he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d have to let Arthur know that they had a chance now, because there was no way Lance was going to try to put all of this together by himself.

* * *

**April 1, 2012, 10:11 P.M.**

The music soared as the Rebel Alliance and the Ewoks celebrated their victory over the Empire, and then abruptly switched into the movie credits. Grinning, Gwaine turned to Elena, who was curled up and nestled against his side. “What do you want to watch next?” he asked her. “ _Star Trek_? _The Last Starfighter_?” 

Gwaine loved movie nights with Elena. They both had a passion for science fiction and fantasy films, and had been known to have whole marathons, such as the one they’d just finished, that of the _Star Wars_ Original Trilogy. It was an excellent way to fuel their addiction for the genres, and also spend some time alone without their friends about them. 

So when Elena shook her head and raised the remote, stopping the movie, Gwaine was rather surprised. “Actually,” she said, “I was hoping we could talk.”

He blinked and set the empty popcorn bowl down on the end table next to the sofa. “Talk?”

She nodded. “Yes, talk.” Elena tossed the remote down next to her and Gwaine took in her expression. She looked distinctly… nervous? Whatever did she have to be nervous about?

Alarm swept through him. “Are you all right?” he blurted out. Thoughts of illness came to mind. Was she sick? Had something happened to her father or —

Elena blinked at him, surprised by his sudden concern. Then she smiled. “Oh, I’m fine,” she told him. “It’s nothing like that,” she assured him. 

“Good,” he said, relieved, and then leaned back. “So what is it?”

Now she hesitated, and seemed to be gathering her courage. “What… You love me, right?”

Gwaine stared at her. What kind of a question was that? “Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I don’t, really. I was just… where do you plan to be a year from now? In five years?”

He was now officially confused, and perhaps a bit perturbed by Elena’s strange questions. Trying to lighten the mood, he joked, “Well, considering how many people are signing up for personal trainers these days, hoping for their very own Jillian to help them lose weight, I’d hope to have at least a half-dozen clients that haven’t fallen off the weight-loss wagon.”

She smiled at him, but it was a strained one. However, she seemed to lose her nerve at that point, and abruptly changed the subject. “ _The Last Starfighter_ sounds good.” She stood up and walked over to the DVD player, intent on switching out _Return of the Jedi_ for the other movie. 

Gwaine stared at her back, utterly confused.

* * *

**April 16, 2012, 11:44 P.M.**

Merlin nearly stumbled into the café, exhausted. Preparing for the yearly Easter celebration in the library was always a chore. Making egg cutouts to tape to the walls all over the children’s area, drawing straws with the other guys to see who would wear the Easter Bunny costume this year (Miles had drawn the short straw, thank goodness – Merlin had no desire to repeat the experience after doing it last year), preparing the eggs for the Easter egg hunt, and all of the other required tasks were enough to drive the entire department batty. It didn’t help that they were all so busy during normal business hours that the time they had to prepare for the party was limited, requiring them to stay well past closing. At least they were given overtime for their trouble. Merlin in particular would need it, since his car was in the shop. 

Walking up to the counter, Merlin ordered a small decaf and a muffin. As he waited for his order to be filled, movement off to his left caught his attention and he turned to see Arthur Pendragon standing over where the sugars and creams were. The other man was dumping a packet of Splenda into his own coffee cup. 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, surprised to see the man. Since meeting each other back in February, the two had habitually exchanged verbal snips whenever they encountered one another, but Merlin wasn’t so oblivious as to have learned nothing about him. Gwen, who had actually dated Arthur before she’d come out, had been able to shed a great deal of light on Arthur. He was an assistant district attorney, a son of a high-priced workaholic defense attorney and partner in a law firm. He was Morgana Cornwall-Lake’s half-brother – which was a story unto itself, but one Gwen didn’t feel right in sharing as it wasn’t really her story to tell. 

Under other circumstances, Merlin might have fallen back on his and Arthur’s usual method of interacting, but right now, Merlin was far too exhausted. He’d gone into work at eight-thirty that morning and had taken only two half-hour breaks to eat his lunch and supper. He was too tired to match wits with Arthur Pendragon. 

After paying for his order, Merlin walked quietly over to where Arthur was stirring his coffee with a straw. Setting his own coffee and muffin down, Merlin greeted Arthur with a short, “Pendragon,” before grabbing a few packs of Splenda for himself. 

Merlin could feel Arthur’s gaze on him as he poured the packs’ contents into his coffee. He was about to step past the other man when Arthur’s sudden words stopped him. “Hey, Emrys.”

Merlin looked up and met the blond man’s gaze. “Yes?” he asked warily. He really, _really_ didn’t feel like exchanging insults right now.

Much to his relief, though, it appeared that Arthur didn’t either. Instead, the other man nodded toward an empty nearby table. “Join me?”

Merlin blinked, surprised. Finally, after a moment, he nodded. What could it hurt? “Sure.”

* * *

**May 3, 2012, 8:30 P.M.**

Gwen sat in the chair in the back of the crowd, trying to listen attentively to the poetry reading she had agreed to accompany Morgause to. Apparently, some of her friends were to read their poetry tonight and Morgause had wanted to be here for moral support. Gwen wasn’t all that interested in poetry, but since Morgause had come with her to the Rising Sun the other night to finally meet her friends and Elyan – an experience Gwen had no desire to ever repeat again – she felt that it was only fair. 

They’d been sitting there for over an hour and had just clapped for the latest would-be poet when Gwen was distracted from forcing her eyes to remain open by a hand brushing her arm. She turned to her left, where Morgause was sitting. The blonde woman was gazing at her, a faint smirk on her red lips. “You look incredibly bored. Do you want to go?” she whispered. 

Gwen blinked, surprised. “But, your friends —”

The other woman shook her head. “Tauren was the last one,” she said, nodding toward the man who had just left the stage. “I’ll tell him what I always tell him – take up regular storytelling and he’ll be much better off. As will we all when we no longer have to suffer through his attempts. He has no ear for poetry.”

Gwen bit her lip, trying not to laugh. It was true. Tauren had had far too much to say and trying to confine himself to the concise layout of a poem left his words chaotic and jumbled. 

Morgause seemed to see right through her and laughed quietly. Taking her hand, she stood up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

With no real desire to argue with her, Gwen also got to her feet. Grabbing her jacket, she slipped out into the aisle and toward the door, which was only a few feet away. They left the coffee house and stood on the sidewalk outside. It was warm out, so Gwen tied her jacket around her waist. 

“Why don’t we walk down by the pond?” she asked to fill the silence. In all truth, Gwen was enjoying the chance to spend the evening on Camelot University’s campus, something she hadn’t done since she’d graduated some years before. The area around the pond was a favorite spot for couples, but one Gwen had avoided during her time here, even when she’d been dating. “That is, if you want to?” she kept going, suddenly overcome by a feeling of nerves. “If you don’t want to, we could —”

“That sounds fine,” Morgause agreed, and Gwen exhaled in relief. They set a leisurely pace, walking downhill from the coffee house. The sidewalks were well-lit by tall cast-iron lamps, as there was little to no sunlight left this late in the day. As they walked, Morgause’s hand brushed down her arm before taking Gwen’s hand. Gwen certainly had no objection to the gesture. It felt lovely, having Morgause’s hand in hers. 

When they arrived at the small deck set on the pond, Gwen was pleased to see that it was deserted. The whole area seemed deserted for that matter, or if there were couples, then they were well hidden by the shrubbery that surrounded the waterside. They sat down on the available bench that overlooked the water and sat in relative silence for several minutes, which was interrupted only by the sounds of water being splashed by the inhabitants of the pond, which were probably frogs and fish, Gwen guessed. Still, she didn’t feel right just sitting there. Not when she felt there were things she needed to say.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said. “I know my friends can be a bit… much, at times. I didn’t mean to spring them on you all at once.”

Morgause gazed at her, her dark eyes as solemn and inscrutable as ever. She shook her head, though. “It wasn’t so bad. I’ve seen and dealt with far worse.”

“No, it was terrible,” Gwen maintained. “I’m also sorry about my brother. Elyan and I weren’t close growing up, and he left home when I was fourteen. We didn’t get back in touch until after our father died, and I think he’s trying to make up for all the years we missed by being an over-protective prat.” She had only heard the end of the conversation between her girlfriend and her brother, but finding out that Elyan had been grilling Morgause about her _intentions_ toward her had been beyond humiliating. She wasn’t a teenager, for God’s sake!

“It’s no sin to watch out for a family member, Guinevere,” Morgause said. Gwen thought the other woman’s eyes grew rather distant for a moment, but it was over so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. “I was a little taken aback by Gwaine, though,” Morgause admitted.

Gwen understood. She still couldn’t think about Gwaine’s behavior without feeling mortified, not just on her own behalf, but on Elena’s. Her roommate had told her of her attempt to discuss the future with Gwaine, but said that it hadn’t gotten anywhere. After seeing Gwaine get completely pissed the night before, acting like he was still a college frat boy, Gwen wondered why Elena even bothered putting up with him anymore.

“But,” Morgause said, bringing Gwen’s attention back to her, “it’s hardly something you need to apologize for.” She reached over and brushed a stray curl out of Gwen’s face, but didn’t drop her hand after pushing it behind her ear. “You’re not responsible for your friends’ maturity, or lack thereof.”

Intellectually, she knew Morgause was right. Gwen couldn’t hold herself accountable for Gwaine’s inability to age mentally past the age of twenty-one, or for Elyan being inappropriately nosy about her and Morgause’s relationship. Nonetheless, she’d spent so long being the responsible one of their group, the default designated driver as it were, that it was hard to shake the instinct to fuss over them. 

“Don’t worry about it, Gwen,” Morgause said, once again interrupting Gwen’s thoughts. She leaned in, resting their foreheads together. “I’m not about to be scared off because some of your acquaintances think they can pry, or act like idiots. You’ll not be rid of me that easily.”

Gwen began to smile, but didn’t get a chance to say anything before Morgause kissed her.

* * *

**May 14, 2012, 6:15 P.M.**

Birthday parties were meant to be fun, festive occasions. Mostly for children, true, but even adults could have a good time, whether they were surrounded by family or friends. 

Morgana was pretty sure that choosing Arthur’s birthday for this vaunted ‘reconciliation’ that her husband and brother were hoping for was possibly one of the worst ideas the two men had ever had. It was a long-standing tradition for Morgana to cook Arthur’s favorite meal – lemon chicken, rice, and vegetables – for him on his birthday, the first meal she’d ever learned to cook with any skill. This year, Arthur had decided that he would like Uther and her mother to join them for the meal. 

Morgana had had to keep herself from gnashing her teeth in annoyance, but had agreed. She was hardly keen on allowing the two people into her home for this first meeting, but what Arthur wanted for his birthday, he usually got. 

Owain had eaten earlier in the day, and then had been put into the playpen Lance had set up in the living room. That left the adults to congregate in the dining room, though Morgana made sure that she had a clear view of the living room and her son from her seat at the table. 

The room’s atmosphere was tense as everyone settled down to eat. Morgana and Lance sat at either end of the table, Arthur on Morgana’s left. Uther and her mother sat opposite of Arthur, Uther closer to Morgana and Vivienne down by Lance. 

“This is a lovely meal,” Vivienne spoke up. She sounded strangely timid. Morgana could never remember her poised, calm mother ever sounding anything but confident. “I had no idea you could cook.”

“I taught myself,” Morgana said shortly, taking her wineglass and sipping from it. “This dish has always been Arthur’s favorite, so I learned how to make it for him.” She didn’t add that Uther hadn’t known that, and that it had always been the family cook, Lottie, who had made it for Arthur when he was younger.

The awkward silence might have returned had not Arthur spoken up, his tone sardonic, “You should have seen her first attempt at making it. I was certain I would die of food poisoning if I ate even a bite of it.”

Morgana turned toward him and raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, perhaps I should invite you over the next time I decide to pull out my cookbooks and try some new recipes.”

“Isn’t Lance already your taster?”

“Who do you think keeps Owain occupied while I’m cooking?”

They shared teasing grins before returning their attention to the food in front of them. As she ate, Morgana allowed herself to glance at the other two guests at the table. Uther hadn’t said much beyond his quiet greetings when Morgana had opened the door to let him and her mother in. They’d arrived together and, in spite of herself, Morgana wondered what that meant. Were they together again? She’d forced herself not to ask Arthur, who would probably know either way.

She switched her gaze to her mother. Vivienne Cornwall had always been beautiful – one of the horrors of Morgana’s childhood had been being constantly compared to the other woman – and she had aged gracefully. Her dark hair, now streaked with just the right amount of grey, was swept up in an elegant twist. Her skin was a bit more lined than Morgana remembered it being, but she was still a handsome woman.

A handsome woman who had betrayed a husband who had adored her. A handsome woman who had had an illegitimate child with her lover and then passed the child off as her husband’s.

Morgana felt her grip on her fork tighten convulsively, anger washing over her like a great, ugly wave. _How_ was this to work? Lance and Arthur wanted so badly to have them all be a family, wanted Owain to be able to have all the advantages of a family group, but did she have the strength to go through with it? Right now, she didn’t think she could, not when she was nearly overwhelmed to throw the utensil across the room. 

She forced herself to look away from her mother, and her eyes landed on Lance at the other end of the table. He was watching her, his dark eyes full of concern. He’d seen her self-control falter, and was worried for her. With as much resolve as she could muster, Morgana forced herself to smile at him. She then set her fork down. “Excuse me a moment,” she said. “I’m going to check on Owain.” Standing up, she left the table before anyone could say a word. 

Owain was happily playing with several of his stuffed animals and cloth toys – she and Lance didn’t want him playing with his smaller toys without them there to supervise him more closely – but still looked up as she approached. “Mommy!”

Morgana could already feel the tightness in her chest easing. She smiled and leaned down over the edge of the playpen. “How’s my little man?” she asked, kissing the crown of his head. 

He didn’t give any specific answer, but went back to his toys, making little noises that must have been some kind of conversation, even if it only made sense to him. She watched him for a few more moments before she felt equal to returning to the dining room. 

She could feel the eyes of the rest of the table’s occupants on her as she sat back down. Morgana offered her husband a more reassuring smile and nodded to her brother. Her expression became a bit more solemn as she turned toward Uther and her mother, but she no longer felt like she wanted to destroy or stab something.

The rest of the meal passed in relative peace, and then the group made their way into the living room. Owain seemed to lose interest in his toys when they came in and stood up, reaching out for Morgana, a demanding glint in his eyes. “Up!”

Laughing, she leaned down and picked him up, setting him on her hip as Lance and Arthur moved the playpen into a corner while Vivienne and Uther sat down on either end of the couch, leaving a respectable distance between them. Lance took a few of Owain’s toys out of the playpen and set them down near the rocking chair that Morgana often sat in. She obligingly sat her son down on the floor. Owain seemed satisfied that he knew what everyone was doing now, and busied himself with his toys. 

Morgana sat down herself in the rocking chair while Arthur sat down on the couch between his father and her mother. Lance excused himself then, saying, “I’ll just get your present, Arthur.” Then he vanished from the room.

Morgana smirked when her brother turned an accusing gaze on her. “I thought we agreed on no presents,” Arthur growled.

She shook her head. “No, _you_ said no presents. We didn’t agree with you.”

He rolled his eyes, and Morgana saw Uther smile faintly in his son’s direction. Lance reappeared then, holding something small and squirming in his arms. “Here you go, brother,” he said.

Arthur’s eyes grew huge as he automatically reached out and took the puppy from Lance, who then backed away and sat down in the armchair near the couch. “The people at the animal shelter told us his name was Kilgharrah,” Morgana told him.

Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly startled by the unusual name. She shrugged. “I think the person who named the puppies liked ancient Celtic names or something. Anyway, we thought he’d be good for you.” Morgana grinned. “Help improve your sociability skills. People love puppies, don’t they?”

Slowly, holding the puppy close, Arthur nodded. The puppy didn’t seem to notice or care about his thoughtful mood, and settled for jerking upward and sliming him with his wet tongue.

As they all laughed, Owain took that moment to notice the animal in his uncle’s arms. “Puppy!”

* * *

**June 3, 2012, 3:11 P.M.**

Elena nodded to herself as the cashier rang up her purchase. Laudine and Percival had requested sports equipment as presents for their wedding, and she had opted to get them matching his-and-her ski-wear. 

After paying for the items, Elena took her bag and left the shop. Walking down the sidewalk, she made for her car. She had to get home to wrap the presents and have them ready for Gwen to take to the wedding shower for her. Elena herself wouldn’t be attending due to a show-jumping event scheduled that very day. 

It might be horrible to admit, but Elena was glad to have the chance to be out of the area for the next few days, even if it meant missing the celebrations for her friends’ upcoming wedding. She sighed wearily. She had been trying for months to get Gwaine to discuss the future, and had initially hoped that Percy’s proposal to his longtime girlfriend would be enough to get her own boyfriend to wake up, but it had proven a futile wish. 

It hurt deeply, but she was beginning to think that perhaps she and Gwaine just weren’t meant to be. He was resolutely still suck in the mentality of being a young man in his early twenties, and she was just as determined to move beyond that phase of her life. They were at a crossroads, and both seemed intent on going in different directions. 

Gwen was at home when Elena got there. “Did you get what you needed?” she called from the kitchen. Elena walked in to see her friend drinking a cup of tea while her eyes were glued to a laptop.

“Yeah, I did,” Elena replied. “Good thing I went today. They were the last pair.”

Gwen looked up. “Are you sure you can’t make it? Laudine would love to see you.”

She smiled weakly. “I’d love to be there too, but this event has been on my schedule for months, and there’s no one to stand in for me. I’ll be back in a few days, though, and I will definitely be there for the wedding, so I’ll see her then.”

Gwen eyed her sharply for several seconds, but then nodded.

* * *

**June 4, 2012, 10:44 P.M.**

The atmosphere in the Rising Sun was boisterous and lively. If the behavior of the participants was anything to go by, Percy’s bachelor party was a rousing success. From his spot at the bar, Gwaine could see Leon and several of the other guys cheering Elyan on as he downed yet another shot. He rolled his eyes. The guys were all going to be completely hung over tomorrow.

Of course, he admitted, if only to himself, on just about any other night, he would probably be right there with them. Just not tonight.

“Hey.” Percy plopped down on the barstool to Gwaine’s left. He gestured toward the bartender, who quickly laid out a full shot glass in front of him. “What’s bothering you?” he asked.

Gwaine blinked. “What makes you think —”

“If everything was normal, you’d be over there with the others, drinking them all under the table and laughing about it,” Percy pointed out, smirking. The expression quickly fell back into something more serious and he asked, “So, what is it?”

Gwaine hesitated for a second, and covered for it by taking a sip of his own drink. Once he swallowed, though, he met Percy’s eyes and saw him still waiting patiently. He sighed. “Okay, I think I did something to piss Elena off. She’s been avoiding me recently, and has been acting weird the past few months.”

“Ah.” Percy knocked back his glass, consuming the alcohol. After a moment he said, “Have you asked her about it?”

He shrugged. “Tried. She just gets all skittish like one of those horses she loves so much.”

“Hm,” was all the other man said at first. Percy stared across the bar, where all of the bottles of booze were lined up on the shelf. “She’s been avoiding you?”

“Yeah. She rarely goes out with me and the others anymore.” Gwaine refused to consider that he sounded like a petulant child, whining about his friend not wanting to play with him. “It’s like she’s not interested anymore.”

Percy glanced at him. “Ever think that she _isn’t_ interested in the same old, same old anymore?”

Gwaine blinked. “What?”

The other man rolled his eyes. “Come on, Gwaine, I know you like to think we’re all still in college, but really, it’s been a while. Most people like to move beyond that lifestyle. Settle down. Have a family. Like me and Laudine.”

Gwaine opened his mouth to laugh, to say that was ridiculous, but stopped before he could make a sound, thinking about it. 

_Where do you plan to be a year from now? In five years?_ Elena had asked that months ago, when her strange behavior had started, really. He hadn’t understood it then, nor had he comprehended her subsequent actions, but now it was slowly making sense. Or at least, her behavior matched Percy’s speculation.

Was this what was bothering her? Did Elena want more? Of course, that led him to think further. Did _he_ want more? Gwaine honestly hadn’t thought about it before. 

Another glass was slammed down in front of him, jarring him out of his thoughts. The bartender offered him a knowing grin. “I’ve seen that look before,” the man said. He poured him another drink. “You’re probably going to need this, buddy.”

* * *

**August 15, 2012, 11:22 A.M.**

Arthur gave a huge sigh of relief as the jury pronounced the defendant, Cenred Ascetir, guilty of all the charges against him. He didn’t doubt that the man’s attorney would appeal the decision, but at the very least he would never again be free to harm anyone else. Arthur had done his job.

The courtroom was emptying quickly, the jury having already filed out. Standing up from his table, Arthur shuffled his papers together and slipped them into his briefcase. He would have a mountain of paperwork waiting for him in his office, no doubt, but it felt good to take a moment to revel in the victory that the detectives, the legal aides, and everyone else involved in the Ascetir case had fought so hard to win.

By the time he finished clearing up his things, Arthur was practically alone in the courtroom. Grabbing his briefcase, he turned to leave, only to stop in his tracks. Standing at the back of the room, just behind the last of the spectator benches, was Merlin. When their eyes met, the dark-haired man broke into a huge, beaming smile.

“Arthur!” Merlin greeted cheerfully as he approached.

“Merlin,” Arthur responded, still surprised. “What…”

He grinned. “You’ve been talking so much about this case lately, I just had to see you at the finish. You did it! Ascetir’s behind bars.”

Arthur nodded. “For now,” he agreed. “There’s still sentencing, and he’ll no doubt appeal, but the case is rock-solid. I’m confidant that any future jury will uphold the verdict.” He cocked his head, staring at Merlin. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked.

Merlin shook his head. “Today’s the day I take the afternoon and evening shifts,” he answered. “I don’t have to be in until one-thirty.” He glanced at his watch before adding, “Plenty of time to get an early lunch, if you want.”

Arthur struggled not to smile too eagerly. He had never thought he would actually come to _enjoy_ the librarian’s company, but since that late night when they had come across each other in the coffee shop, Arthur had slowly come to like having Merlin in his life. He wouldn’t say they were dating, exactly, but they were spending a fair bit of time together, and there had been an ever increasing amount of flirting.

Arthur was interested, and if he was reading the signs right, so was Merlin. 

He nodded, replying, “Sure!” He winced inwardly at the tone of his voice. He sounded like an overenthusiastic teenager. 

So much for playing it cool.

Merlin didn’t seem to think so, however. His smile was bright and happy as they walked out of the courtroom. 

They left the courthouse – thankfully avoiding the throngs of press – and walked down the street together. Arthur led Merlin into a small restaurant that catered to the courthouse crowds in particular. The host, Tom, recognized him immediately and led him to a booth in the back, which was Arthur’s particular favorite spot – quiet, secluded, and away from the restaurant’s hustle and bustle. 

Their waitress arrived fairly quickly, a young lady named Freya, if Arthur recalled correctly, and she took their orders with great efficiency. Arthur also wasn’t blind to the way her eyes lingered a little on Merlin, who seemed oblivious to her interest. “Mary will have your orders out to you soon,” she said, smiling as she walked off, leaving the two of them alone.

Arthur returned his gaze to Merlin, who was taking a sip of his water. “How long were you waiting?” he asked him.

Merlin gave him a smile that seemed both mocking and shy. “Since it started. You were already settled, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I knew how important this case was to you, and wanted to see you win it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How could you be so sure that I’d win, Merlin? It’s not as though you had a bug on the jury and knew what they were going to say.”

Merlin snorted. “False modesty doesn’t become you, so stop trying, Arthur.” He leaned back. “I know how thoroughly you prepared for the trial, and the evidence was damning. You were going to get it.” He smirked. “You’re brilliant, you know it, so stop fishing for compliments. Your head is already big enough.”

Arthur laughed and shook his head. “It is not!”

Merlin just shrugged, his lips twitching in amusement. 

They kept talking for the next twenty minutes, until their food arrived. As they ate, Arthur asked Merlin about the current goings on at the library he worked at. “School starts next week,” Merlin said after he swallowed some of his green beans. “That’ll cut down on our morning and early afternoon traffic, and hopefully give us some more time to work on controlling the collection. It needs some serious weeding, and we never really have time to work on it during the summer, aside from what our volunteers are able to do for us.”

They finished their meal and left the restaurant together. There was a park not far from there and since Arthur still had time on his lunch break, they headed that way. If he was needed back at the office, his secretary would call his cell. He and Merlin walked for a while, talking about whatever came up. Arthur confided his cautious optimism over Morgana’s reconciliation with their father and her mother. “She’s even talked to them!” Of course, practically all of that talk had been about mundane subjects. She had never broached the subject of why they’d been estranged, nor had his father or Vivienne tried to bring it up. All three seemed be avoiding the presence of the elephant in the room, for now. How long that would last, Arthur didn’t know. “At least she’s letting Owain get to know his grandparents. That’s what Lance and I hoped for the most.”

Merlin nodded, a wistful expression crossing his face. “My grandparents were godsends when I was a kid. My dad was hardly ever around, too focused on his animals, but his parents and my mom’s were a huge presence in my life. I worshipped my grandfathers. They were so much fun.”

They stopped around that time, leaning against the iron fence that surrounded the pond and watching the ducks glide along the water. The silence between them was comfortable, and Arthur braced himself. “Do you… that is, would you like to come up to my place sometime? Eat in? Maybe watch a movie?”

Merlin turned to look at him, his eyes a little wider. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Meet your dog?”

Arthur could feel himself flushing a bit, but he nodded. “Sure. Kilgharrah loves people.” Morgana had delighted in being right about Kilgharrah increasing his ‘sociability’. Having to walk and take care of a dog had ended up forcing him into contact with a lot of new people, people he was forming friendships with. He’d been surprised to find out how much he liked it.

Merlin kept grinning. “Sounds great.”

They stood there for several moments, beaming at each other like idiots, until Arthur leaned forward before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Merlin’s lightly, tentatively, and then he pulled back. Or started to, at any rate. Merlin’s hands grasped his arms and tugged him forward again. This time, the kiss was much more intense and thorough. He could taste the faintest hint of cherries in Merlin’s mouth, a remnant of his cherry pie dessert. 

Merlin’s fingers brushed across Arthur’s cheeks, and then they broke for air. Arthur’s eyes instantly went to Merlin’s lips, which were red and swollen, just asking for further attention. He silently cursed that it was the middle of the day, and thus preventing him from dragging Merlin back to his apartment where they could lavish as much attention on each other as possible.

The other man stared at him intently, and then laughed, seeming to read his thoughts. “How about we get together tomorrow night?” he suggested. “I have the evening shift tonight, but I get off at five tomorrow.”

Arthur stared at him, and then broke into a smile. Who knew Merlin was secretly a genius?

* * *

**September 22, 2012, 7:24 A.M.**

Morgana struggled to blink away the tears gathering in her eyes as she dry heaved over the toilet. The contents of her stomach, meager as they were, had already come up, leaving her with the miserable sensation of wanting to vomit, but having nothing to expel. God, but she _hated_ this feeling.

She hated being sick in general. The only relief was that it was a Saturday, so she wasn’t missing school. 

Slowly, the overwhelming desire to throw up faded, leaving her weak and shaking on the bathroom floor. That was when the door opened slowly, revealing a sympathetic Lance. “Done?” he asked her.

Morgana nodded unsteadily. “I think so,” she replied, leaning back against the bathtub. 

He sat down on the bathtub’s edge beside her. His fingers gently brushed through her mussed hair, a comforting gesture. Sighing in relief, Morgana closed her eyes and rested her head against his knee. 

“Morgana,” Lance said quietly, “this has been happening for over a week now. Maybe you should get a doctor’s appointment for Monday —”

“I think I know what it is,” she cut him off. Slowly she opened her eyes again and looked up at him. “I just don’t remember it being this bad the first time it happened.”

Lance stared at her, confusion rippling across his handsome features. “The first time…” he trailed off, and then his eyes widened in comprehension. “Do you think you’re —”

She nodded silently.

“But we were both —”

“It’s not foolproof,” Morgana pointed out, “and this is what it felt like with Owain.” She sighed. “I could be wrong, though, so I’d better get a pregnancy test, just to start.”

There was no response for a moment, but then, he said, “Morgana, are you… unhappy about this?”

She blinked, and paused, thinking about it. “It’s a shock,” she finally replied, “certainly not something I was expecting. I thought we were going to wait a few years…” Morgana bit her lip, and then continued, “But I could never be unhappy about something like this.” Mustering a smile, she reached up and took one of his hands, bringing it down to her lips. “Never,” she whispered.

Lance gazed down at her, and then he smiled. “Why don’t you go lie down?” he suggested. “Owain’s not up yet, and I have enough time to run down the block to the pharmacy. I’ll get it for you.”

Relief spread through her. In all honesty, Morgana didn’t really want to have to get up and get dressed in order to go get the pregnancy test. “Thank you, darling,” she said softly.

Without saying anything else, Lance stood up and then grasped her hands. Pulling on her, he helped her to her feet before leading her out of the bathroom. Once she was back into their bedroom and in bed, Morgana shut her eyes. She barely heard Lance leave the apartment.

* * *

**October 31, 2012, 6:24 P.M.**

“Trick or treat!”

There was a group of five children and their parents at the door. Gwen smiled at them, her bowl of candy in hand. “Oh my,” she enthused, dropping several pieces of candy into the outstretched bags. “A ghost, a pirate, a skeleton, a witch, and Frankenstein! Quite a scary group!”

The children, who all looked to be under the age of seven or eight, giggled. Once they had their candy, the group of five chorused, “Thank you, Miss Gwennie!”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, while also smiling at the parents. As the large group went on their way, Gwen stepped back and closed the door. Putting the bowl down on the side table next to the door, she made her way back to the living area. Elena and Morgause were already sitting there, the former in the overstuffed chair and the latter on the couch. Gwen joined Morgause, sitting down next to her and snuggling into the other woman’s side while she wrapped an arm around Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s your turn next time someone rings the bell,” she told Elena.

Elena laughed. “Okay, okay,” she agreed. “My turn. You got it, Miss Gwennie.”

Gwen stuck her tongue out at her.

The bell didn’t sound for the next several minutes, leaving the three women to relax a little. Gwen took the free moments to study her friend. For all of the heartache Elena had been enduring with Gwaine the past several months, she did look calmer, more settled. She hadn’t had a chance to ask her friend about it, and admitted that she was curious. However, she hesitated to ask in front of Morgause. She wasn’t sure if Elena would appreciate having her love life aired in front of another person, no matter how special she was to Gwen.

Somehow, Morgause seemed to read her mind. After brushing a light kiss on the side of Gwen’s head and running her fingers through Gwen’s dark curls, she stood up and made toward the hallway, intent on the bathroom. Once they were alone, Gwen turned back to Elena. “Have you… Is there anything new with Gwaine?” she asked.

Elena glanced over at her, and then smiled. “We’ve talked. I don’t know if it’ll come to anything, but he’s willing to at least try to stop acting like a frat boy all the time.”

Gwen nodded, but before she got a chance to ask for anything more specifics, the bell rang. Elena sprang up from her chair and walked to the door. When she opened it after grabbing the bowl, Gwen heard another cry of, “Trick or treat!”

“Oh my,” Elena exclaimed. “It seems we have a knight here! Are you guarding Lord Lance and Lady Morgana, sir knight?”

The response was muffled, but Gwen stood up to join her roommate at the door. Lance and Morgana were definitely there, and Owain was dressed as a knight, sword, helmet, and all. She beamed at the trio. “Happy Halloween!”

The two adults grinned at her, and Owain waved his sword in greeting. 

“How are you feeling?” Gwen asked Morgana, nodding toward her abdomen. She wasn’t showing yet, but she had confided in a few of her friends about the unexpected pregnancy.

Morgana gave her a sardonic half-smile. “The morning sickness hasn’t quite tapered off yet, nor is it confined to just the morning. Afternoons and nights seem to feature me in the bathroom throwing up whatever was my last meal. I cannot wait until the trimester is over.”

They chatted for a few more moments, with Owain hopping from one foot to the other, impatient to continue on his trick or treating. With their son tugging at them incessantly, Morgana and Lance didn’t stay long, leaving Elena and Gwen to rejoin Morgause.

* * *

**December 31, 11:47 P.M.**

Arthur pushed Merlin against the wall of the building and then pressed his own body against him. They kissed each other with a special fervor, not being able to get enough of one another. Arthur could feel the other man’s fingers scrabbling along his coat, seeking to get beneath it. He himself longed to push beneath Merlin’s clothing, to touch the pale skin beneath his shirt.

“Arthur,” Merlin murmured between kisses, “inside.”

“God, yes,” Arthur breathed. Inside, and then the elevator up to his apartment. Where they’d be _alone_. 

Fortunately, they were right next to the door. Arthur frantically fished for his keys, desperate to get inside. Finally finding the right one, he jerked the door open and then hustled Merlin inside. He grabbed him, ready to kiss him again simply because he couldn’t get enough of him, when movement just in front of him caught Arthur’s attention.

There, next to the elevator doors, were another couple, one pressing another against the wall. Arthur could see a head of long blonde hair, and the darker skin of the other person’s hands, which were clenching around the blonde’s coat as they moaned against one another. “Morgause…”

Wait. Arthur _knew_ that voice. Before he could even think of anything else, he blurted, “ _Gwen_?!”

The two women seemed to freeze for several moments, and then slowly, they separated. It _was_ Gwen, and Morgause. Both their lips were shiny from their kisses, and he could already see the flush creeping up to Gwen’s cheeks. Hell, Arthur could even feel his own embarrassment rising up his own neck. He glanced at Merlin and saw that he too was beet red.

Morgause was the only one not flustered by their sudden encounter. Chuckling, she smirked at him and Merlin while throwing an arm around Gwen. “Maybe we should go join the rest of the residents in the basement,” she suggested. “The party is going strong, and it’s almost midnight.”

The party was the last thing Arthur wanted to go to. All of his thoughts were focused on Merlin and his bed, preferably with the former in the latter. With him. Why would he choose to spend time with people over _that_? And if he could tell anything by Morgause’s amused expression, she certainly knew where his preferences lay. 

Still, to refuse to do so would be churlish. Glancing at Merlin again, Arthur saw the same mingled reluctance and acceptance. Sighing, he replied finally, “All right, let’s join the others.”

The four of them made their way down into the basement, and just as Morgause had said, the party was going strong. Just like the year before, the beverages were flowing and the food was plentiful. People were talking and laughing together. As Arthur stood next to Merlin though, he was grateful for the difference in his life now from then. Last year, Merlin had been someone he had automatically dismissed. Now, well, Arthur wasn’t quite sure he wanted to name exactly what Merlin was to him now, but at the very least, Merlin was quite special.

He glanced around the room. He spotted Lance talking with Leon and several other men. Morgana was with a group of other women who lived in the building, the only one not drinking alcohol. It thrilled Arthur that come next summer, he’d be an uncle to another nephew, or possibly a niece. Perhaps this child wouldn’t be born under the shadows of family estrangements like Owain had. 

It was around then that people started the final countdown, though Arthur paid it little notice. “Ten! Nine!”

There was Gwaine with Elena. He’d gotten to know the man a little more over the past few months as he and Merlin had started seeing each other, and although Arthur had thought the man cocky and arrogant, he had seen the depths of friendship and loyalty that he held inside of him. It was no wonder Merlin and he were still close after years of friendship.

“Eight! Seven! Six!”

Arthur watched as Gwaine turned to Elena and knelt down in front of her, something in his hand. _Is he…?!_

“Five! Four!”

Even from across the room, Arthur could see Elena gasp, her hand flying up to her mouth. Then she positively _squealed_ , leaping onto Gwaine and knocking him to the ground in her enthusiasm.

“Three! Two!”

Arthur laughed and nudged Merlin, nodding toward Elena and Gwaine. “I guess that means yes.”

“One! Happy New Year!”


End file.
